The Thing About Seduction
by EricaOswin
Summary: There were three times Alexandra Udinov tried to seduce Nikita, but only one time she got what she wanted. Three-shot.
1. Chapter 1

When Nikita walks into her room that night, Alex is already there. She's sitting at the end of her bed, waiting.

She's not in her normal attire of sweatpants and T-shirts either. Alex's small frame is wrapped in a nude and black corset, with a lace trim and mesh design. The matching skirt is short-almost non existent-and black with a ruffle design. It's attached to a garter belt and dark matching tall black pumps lie on the floor by the bed, discarded. Her trademark long brown hair is curled and pulled over one shoulder, and she's wearing light eye make-up to accentuate her baby blue eyes.

This would mark the first time Nikita would see her dressed up; make up on and her hair done. They've known each other for almost a year now, and it's the first time Alex doesn't look like a junkie.

Alex isn't expecting much of a compliment. Actually, she isn't expecting any compliment-this is Nikita, after all. But what comes out her mouth next genuinely surprises her.

"Go to bed, Alex."

Alex scoffs, momentarily at a loss for words. The moment Nikita took to look at her, actually focus her eyes on her and pay attention to her, is already over. It was a rare moment, one that didn't last nearly as long as Alex wanted.

The older woman walks to the night stand and picks up a rubber band. "Tomorrow's a big day, you need your rest." Nikita is already dressed for bed, a large tee shirt and nothing else on. She pulls her long black hair into a loose ponytail and looks at Alex pointedly, who's still watching her, a look of disbelief on her face.

It's the night before Alex's insertion into Division. Their last night together.

Alex sits up properly and folds her arms. "Seriously?"

Nikita snorts and begins pulling back the covers. "You need to sleep, Alex. Tomorrow is important," she says. She opens the nightstand drawer and pulls out her small silver gun. She checks to see if the safety is on, then slides it underneath her pillow. She's such a robot.

"Nikita..." Alex trails of, gesturing to the ridiculously uncomfortable outfit she's wearing. "Believe it or not, this is all for _you_."

Nikita stops and and gives her another once over, facial expression never changing. She climbs into bed without saying anything. When she finally settles in, she lets out a soft groan.

Nikita's been going a bit overboard on the training lately; 3:00 am morning runs, sparring after every meal, combat lessons before every meal, tactical tips during water breaks and reviewing of everything related to Division; procedures, rules, personnel, operational history and etc.

She's stressed out, and worried. Tomorrow is a big day, and so is every single day after that. The day they infiltrate Division is the day the war starts, and for the past few weeks, Nikita's been more high strung than ever.

That's why Alex is doing this tonight. Nikita needs to relax, she needs one good memory to hold onto once Alex is gone. She needs Alex, whether she knows it or not.

Alex stands up and walks around to the other side of the bed. When she pulls the covers up to get under, Nikita slaps them back down and gives her that look. Alex ignores it, of course. She climbs on top of the comforter and lies back against the plush pillows, watching Nikita.

"You need to relax."

"And what? This is going to help me?" Nikita tugs on the lacy trim of the corset, raising an eyebrow skeptically. Physical contact. Progress.

"Well, it would take your mind off things...for a little while, at least." Nikita gives her a dubious look and stays silent. "I'm serious," Alex goes on. "You've been so...tense these past few weeks, more wound up than ever." Alex traces a lazy pattern on Nikita's arm, the touch so light it's almost non existent.

"Alex," Nikita says, giving her a warning. She slaps her hand away, but doesn't kick her out of bed. Again. This is a good sign to Alex.

The next time Nikita turns her head, Alex leans forward and presses a soft kiss to the spot where shoulder and neck meet. She tenses at first, then relaxes. Then pushes Alex away. A little more violently than she would have liked.

Alex sighs heavily, rolling her eyes. "I don't know why I keep trying," she mutters. But truth be told, she's nowhere close to giving up.

"I didn't ask for this, Alex. I never did," Nikita says, giving her an almost violent look.. They weren't mean words, but the way they were said, the sharp inflection in her voice, didn't change the way it hit Alex.

It stung a little, yes, but if she showed that, then Nikita would know there was a way to make her back down. And Alex isn't backing down from this.

"I keep trying because I know it'll all be worth it in the end. I see the way you look at me, Nikita." Nikita isn't always like this; robotic and cold. There are times when Alex is able to break through her walls and see below the surface. Nikita isn't necessarily "friendly" or "inviting", but for one moment in time, a flicker in history, she's...human.

Nikita scoffs, rolling her eyes. "You always were one for the fairy tales."

"I don't believe in fairytales," Alex counters, becoming frustrated; Nikita still thinks of her as just a kid.

"Whatever it is you believe in, abandon it, 'cause it's making you look like a fool." In the past, that one remark, that one string of words, would've cut right through the young girl, leaving her stunned or embarrassed or hurt. But the past is the past for a reason, and Alex isn't easily broken.

"Okay, what? What is it? Do you not like lingerie? Is it the colors? Too dark, too light, what? Is it my hair? The perfume? The garter belt? Is it your time of month or what? Or do you just prefer me in jeans or sweats?"

Nikita snorts, rolling over onto her back. The look on her face is pure malice, and if Alex didn't see it so often, she would have flinched.

"My problem is with the girl in the lingerie, the one who doesn't know that no means no."

"Technically, you've never said no to me, you just kicked me out of bed. Repeatedly."

"Did you ever stop to think that maybe there's a reason I keep doing that? Maybe because I don't like women, or because you're 17 and I'm 27 or because I'm just not interested in _you_?"

It's Alex's turn to snort. "Really? All the shit you've done and you're worried about statutory rape. Rape that's consensual and only statutory for _three more weeks_?"

"Really? That's the one point you heard? Yeah, I don't think I'm the only one with fucked priorities." Nikita says, crossing her arms.

"Okay, fine; the other two points. You, straight? No. Did you forget I was home when you drunkenly brought that woman home from the bar? And not to mention your browsing history and your wandering eye. Everything says otherwise, Nikki," Alex says, ticking the evidence off on her fingers.

"Don't call me Nikki."

"And don't think I never noticed you staring down my shirt while you taught me to hack a computer or pick a lock." Alex finishes, ignoring the pointless comment about her nickname.

Nikita smirks. "And the last point?" she asks, looking just the tiniest bit amused. "You know, where the issue is solely you?"

"I don't like that option," Alex says, shaking her head. "The odds aren't in my favor."

"They aren't in your favor tonight, either, sweetheart." Nikita shakes her head with such finality,

that Alex knows it's time to call it quits. For tonight anyway. She sighs and props herself up on one elbow, reaching out a hand to tease Nikita's hair.

"You do realize this is the last time you'll see me in person for months, right?" Alex asks, lowering her voice. "Almost a year?"

"I know what I'm doing, Alex." _You mean you know what you're giving up_, Alex thinks, bitterly.

"The days and nights ahead will be long and lonely..."

Why couldn't she just stop all this? This may very well be the last time they see each other, the last few hours they have together.

"Alex," Nikita says, in that annoying and harsh warning tone.

Usually, this is the part when Alex would exit the bedroom, and give up for another night. But they're nearing the start of a war, and in a way, the end. She knows that after tonight, everything will change.

"Fine," Alex says, sitting back up. "But answer one question first. Are you going to miss me?" The young Russian asks in a low voice. She traces another shape on Nikita's arm, fingertips ghosting over the pale skin in the dark room.

Nikita doesn't tense up or relax. Doesn't push Alex away or pull her closer. Instead, she simply says, "Go to bed, Alex."

* * *

My first multi-chaptered fic:D

Reviews are love:3


	2. Chapter 2

"I thought you would've grown out of this by now," Nikita says, walking into the living room of the safe house. She shrugs out of her leather jacket and folds it over her arm.

"Well, you know. Some things just never change," Alex replies. She uncrosses her legs and stands, tightening the belt on her short silk robe. It's a pretty one too; black with a large cherry blossom tree printed on the right side.

"Well, your technique has changed." Nikita gestures with her right hand to the indoor picnic that's been set up in the middle of the living room. The coffee table has been pushed forward and rests underneath the large, plasma screen TV. The long red couch, love seat, recliners and ottomans have all been moved to the outskirts of the room and the Kevlar blinds are pulled shut.

"I'm adapting to changing circumstances." Alex moves forward until she's standing directly in front of Nikita. "I can take that for you," she says, reaching out a hand. Nikita passes her the jacket, giving her a knowing look in the process.

Alex ignores it, of course.

"What changing circumstances?"

"I've got your favorites," Alex calls over her shoulder. She's back by the front door, hanging Nikita's jacket in the shared closet. Nikita scans the large spread of food, or rather pastries, spread out on a black tablecloth laid out on the floor. Cupcakes, cookies, chocolates, muffins, donut holes, strudels and, both red and white wine.

Nikita cocks an eyebrow. "My favorite is a veggie shake." When Alex walks past again, she scrunches up her face like the little kid she still is on the inside. Nikita laughs.

"Veggie shakes aren't sexy."

"Neither is cellulite."

Alex scoffs, self-consciously tugging at the hem of her robe. Nikita stops herself from reaching out a hand to stop her, stops herself from opening up her mouth to reassure her. She almost makes the mistake of telling her she's gorgeous.

But instead she folds her arm against her chest and asks: "What is this Alex?"

"It's not a seduction if that's what you're thinking. It's a...a...friendly dinner." Alex flashes her a smile, _that_ smile, that probably got her everything she wanted as a kid.

"Then where are the boys?" Nikita asks, speaking of Michael and Birkhoff.

"They're having a guys' night out."

"What a coincidence, Alex." Of course she doesn't believe her. Her tone of voice implies that. Alex looks up from where she's crouching on the ground, straightening the various plates and dishes. When she stands up again, she's holding a bottle of wine and two glasses in her hands. She paddles barefoot into the kitchen area, and Nikita follows, though maintaining a distance between them.

"Nikita, are you implying something?" She asks sweetly.

"I'm implying that you've only been back for six days and you've already got them wrapped up in this mess."

"Hey," Alex snaps. "It's not a mess. I baked every one of those pastries from scratch."

"Remember the last time you did this? When we talked about the fucked up priorities? I think they're coming back into play."

Alex rolls her eyes, filling the glass to the rim with the champagne colored liquid. "That whole conversation was over a year and a half ago. No point in bringing it up."

"You say it like you're embarrassed."

Alex sets the full glass down on the counter and fills the next one. "I was just a kid then, I was...I went about things the wrong way," she shrugs. She extends her arm, offering up a glass of wine.

"You're still a kid, honey. Nineteen isn't an adult. And you shouldn't even be drinking."

"I'm Russian Nikita. Trust me, I can hold my liquor."

"Wait. 'I went about things the wrong way' Is that what you meant when you said you were adapting to changing circumstances?"

Alex only smiles at her, taking a sip from the glass Nikita rejected. She didn't really expect an answer; that's not how Alex works.

She comes around the counter and grabs Nikita by the hand, pulling her back towards the living room.

"How exactly did you get the guys out the house?"

"Everybody loves lesbians," Alex shrugs.

Nikita groans and suppresses the impulse to pinch the bridge of her nose. "_Tell me_ you didn't use the actual 'L' word."

"Oh, so people actually use that term?"

"I have a feeling if I say the actual word around you, a tornado is going to strike in some foreign part of the world."

"Ha ha." she says dryly. They stop walking when they get to the edge of the table cloth.

"So, you told them. About _all_ of this?" Nikita says, eyes glancing at the food, then at Alex.

"All of what? Nothing's happened. Yet." She adds smiling.

"Nothing is going to happen, Alex."

"Stop being stubborn." Nikita's not really sure how it happens, but she ends up sitting crossed legged, on the carpet, next to Alex.

The younger woman reaches forward to grab a plate of cupcakes, exaggerating the effort to no doubt show off her rear. It's such a ridiculous action that Nikita finds herself snorting back a laugh.

"What?" Alex questions, a little too innocently.

"You're transparent." Nikita replies, mocking her tone of voice.

"Chocolate, vanilla, strawberry or lemon?" The red plate floats underneath Nikita's nose and the only reason she plucks one off is to make it go away. She's not really one for sweets. Or seductions.

Alex plucks off a lemon one and uncurls her legs. "So one year. And a half."

"Long time."

"So what happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"Last time I was living with you, you weren't exactly the poster child for domestic lifestyles." Eighteen months. That's how long it'd been since Alex's insertion into Division. Since they'd live together, since they were friends.

Alex had only been back with the team-which now consisted of Nikita, Michael and Birkhoff-for six days, and Nikita had yet to fill her in on the missing links.

"I'm still not, not really," Nikita shakes her head. It's a nice little thing they have, but it still didn't feel like home, not just yet. She looks down at the cupcake in her hand. It's chocolate, with a pink icing heart drawn on the top of the vanilla spread. Despite her attempts not to, she smiles.

"Really, Alex? A heart?"

"Hearts also represent friendship."

Nikita raises an eyebrow.

"Shut up. Just taste it."

"You know I hate sweets."

"You're a freak, I know." she says separating the paper cup from her own pastry. She takes a bite out of the cake, getting icing on the corner of her mouth.

"I think I'll stick to wine," Nikita says, setting her own cupcake down beside her. Alex beams at her. "I'm drinking to endure this, Alex. Not because I'm falling for it."

"Falling for what?" she asks, wiping her face clean. She uncurls and stretches her legs, and when she does, a little more thigh peeks out from underneath her robe.

"What are you wearing underneath that robe, Alex?"

Her reply isn't verbal, but physical. She sits up on her knees and unties the belt. The silk piece falls to the floor without noise and Alex is left kneeling, nearly naked.

"I know red is your favorite color, but blue is mine." She gestures to the lingerie; a lacy, baby blue bralett and matching-transparent-boy shorts. It's a nice combination; Alex and the color, that is. The color of the lingerie emphasizes her eye color, painting them a darker, nearly impossible shade of blue. And the bright color looks great; a perfect contrast to her pale skin and dark hair.

The smile Alex gives her is almost shy. "The back is my favorite, it's the reason why I brought it. I usually go for the darker colors." Alex, turns around and pulls her long brown locks over her shoulder, completely exposing her back. The back of the bralett is a corset, the sides of the bra held together by a thin, blue ribbon that's tied off in a neat bow. The bralett ends at the waist, showing off a nice amount of creamy white skin that tapers off into her backside, which admittedly looked more...rounded, in the boy shorts.

"What do you think?" Alex asks, peeking at her over her shoulder.

"I think you look gorgeous, as always." No point in lying to the girl.

"So you like it?" She sounds stunned, and the small, incredulous smile she flashes makes Nikita forget everything, just for a second. "I thought you'd just ignore it, like last time." she finishes, shrugging.

"I didn't ignore it. You were seventeen." Alex turns forward again, stretching out her legs. She doesn't bother with the robe again, and though she'd never admit it, Nikita is glad. Alex shoots her a knowing smile.

"What?"

"Amanda was right about you; 'Nikita the Saint.'" Alex shakes her head.

"When did she say that?"

"When I was at Division the second time around. She's completely fucked herself, but she's never been wrong about other people."

"Why were you two talking about me?"

"Because everyone's world revolves around you, Nikki."

"Ha ha."

"Well, mine sort of does." Alex shrugs, and for a moment Nikita gets a glimpse of her shyness. Nikita looks down into the wineglass in her hand, the light colored liquid gently swishing back and forth against the transparent walls of the glass.

"What else did she say?"

"About you? A lot, actually. I think you were her favorite patient." Nikita gives her a look. "I'm actually not joking. You came up quite a lot."

"And..." Nikita takes a sip of wine, enjoying the cool, tangy taste of a drink she hasn't had in a long time. "…what was said about me?"

Alex smirks. "She was my therapist, Nikita. Doctor-patient confidentiality? It exists for a reason." She reaches for her own glass of wine, this time not sexualizing the act.

"Sorry, it's just you've got everything else out in the open right now, so I just figured..." Nikita trails off, smirking.

Alex scoffs, looking down at her body. "It's not...out in the open. This is...tasteful!"

"Lingerie on a nineteen year old is not tasteful, it's unnecessary. You don't need it."

"Ooh," Alex says, finally getting it. "You're one of _those _people." She shakes her head. "I should've guessed that the first time around."

"One of _those_ kinds of people?" Nikita asks, taking another, longer sip of wine. "Usually when people say that it's followed up by something racist."

"It has nothing to do with race. It's just that some people like embellishments; you know, lingerie, make-up, heels, jewelry and perfume."

"And the others?"

"Some just like skin. No clothes, no underwear, just skin. It's kind of like a kink, except it's not creepy."

"It breaks my heart that you know about kinks already."

"You know if you keep acting like my mom, this is going to get really creepy, really fast." It was a mistake to bring up her mother. Only six days have passed since the big revelation, and Nikita can tell by Alex's expression that the wounds are still fresh. She reaches out a hand and runs it up and down the younger woman's arm, trying for a soothing gesture.

"So, how are you doing with that?

Alex shrugs and takes a sip from her wineglass. "I'm fine."

"You know, your age isn't the only reason you shouldn't be drinking." Nikita doesn't have to say the word. It's hanging in the air; addiction. "When you've already had one, it's-"

"-easy to form another. I know, Amanda gave me the same speech. It's nothing I don't already know."

"You're an adult now. You can make you own decisions."

"I'm okay, Nikita." She shoots her a reassuring smile and sets the glass down. "At least in that department."

"And the others?"

"Are ones I really don't want to talk about."

There's a silence between them. Whether it lasts for seconds or minutes is unknown to Nikita. She breaks it first, only after finishing the last of her wine. "You know, that's why we can't do this, Alex."

"Why not?" Nikita looks into her eyes and sees a sadness, deep and aching and she knows it's reflected in her own eyes.

"Because of you. And your past. Your family. Everything that happened after that night." Nikita stops and runs a hand through her hair. "Everything that's my fault."

It's a while before Alex responds. "You know, this is exactly what Amanda was talking about. Saint Nikita, rearing her pretty head again." It makes Nikita smile. How Alex always managed to throw in a compliment was beyond her.

"What are you talking about," she questions, trying to sound annoyed.

"Saint Nikita. Always making the decisions for other people. Always taking the blame for things you can never change. She said it's because you care too much about people, because you never want them to hate themselves as much as you hate yourself. She thinks that, that's the whole reason you're doing this crusade. Not for revenge, not for right and wrong, but for redemption."

For once, Nikita fully understands why people yell at their therapists; why they have temper tantrums and why they eventually avoid the sessions altogether. It's because the therapist is always right.

Nikita doesn't know what to say, so she says nothing at all. It's hard hearing the truth about yourself, and it's not easier when it's something you've been running from for nearly a decade.

"I don't blame you, Nikita, not for anything." Sometime during the last few minutes, Alex inched closer to her. She knows this without looking up because when she speaks, her voice is right next to her ear. The smell of her perfume-sweet and tangy, something that reminds Nikita of spring and beaches-is the only thing Nikita is aware of. "You saved my life, Nikki."

Alex didn't understand. Maybe she never would. "Alex...you don't get it. You were a sex slave. You were raped, every day for years, okay? You were abused and mistreated and you had a heroin addiction, you were a prostitute and...and you tried to kill yourself." Nikita pulls her knees to her chest and covers her face with her hands. When she speaks again, her voice shakes.

"You tried to take your own life. All because I handed you off to the wrong person." When she looks up again Alex can see the tears in her eyes. "And then I lied to you about being there. I lied to you face, every day for almost two years," Nikita gives a bitter laugh, wiping her eyes.

It's hard for a person to hear the truth about themselves and when she finally manages the courage to look over at Alex, she sees how broken and fragile she is.

"I was angry at you. I hated you. I wanted you dead. It wasn't because of all that stuff though. It was because you lied to me. You chose to lie to me. You never had a choice with the Division thing, but you had a choice about telling me." Alex isn't crying like she is, and that only makes Nikita feels worse.

"But you stopped me from killing myself. I have a life now, one worth keeping. I smile. I laugh. I have friends, and memories and a future. I have a fraction of a family and I have the truth. I even fell in love."

Nikita snorts. "Look how that turned out. Nathan had to leave the fucking country."

"I'm not talking about Nathan, Nikita."

Nikita stiffens, scared of what's about to be said. Loving and caring about someone is easy, even in their world. But being on the receiving end of that? It's scary.

"Why do you think I hate you so much?" She can tell Alex is trying to lighten the situation, but it's no use. Nikita isn't the loving kind.

"Alex I can't do this." She uses both hands to push herself up, wiping her hands on her jeans once she's in a standing position. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm not...I can't do this."

"You mean not now or not ever?" she questions, standing up too. There's only a bit of space between them, and she doesn't really care about anything else.

"Alex...you...I care about you okay? I do," she says, cursing herself because she can't stop the tears. "I care about you and I want this, but I-"

Alex has had enough talking. She pulls Nikita closer, crashing their bodies together, eliminating all gaps and spaces between them. "You're not doing anything wrong, Nikita. I want this too."

She presses the other woman's lip to her own, thrilled for their first kiss. It's tentative at first, like all first kisses, but moments later she can feel all of Nikita's passion and frustration bleeding into it. Their mouths move in an intricate, almost violent dance. When Alex parts her mouth for Nikita, she has to stifle a moan when her tongue slips inside. She wants to move her hands; run them all over Nikita's body, but she knows there's a chance that if she lets Nikita go, she might slip away.

She gently nudges Nikita down to the floor and soon, both of them are kneeling, still entangled in each other. Alex pulls away for air and when she does, Nikita's lips follows, alternating between chaste and passionate kisses. Alex is breathless now and she likes it because every time she inhales, she inhales Nikita's breath. She's inhaling her. Nikita's hand find their way to Alex's sides, and the teasing begins; her fingernails raking long, light scratches along the sensitive skin, back and forth, over and over again. Nikita buries her face in her neck, and she's whispering something that Alex can't understand because she's too focused on her warm breath trickling down her skin.

"That feels good," Alex murmurs, letting her eyes close. Nikita's hands dip lower, leaving hot trails across her skin. She feels the pressure of her hands through the thin, lacy fabric of her boy shorts as Nikita gropes her, giving her bottom a long, harsh squeeze. Alex gasps out, pressing her body into Nikita's.

"I wasn't joking when I said you looked gorgeous," Nikita whispers, running her hands back up her body. They come to a stop on her shoulders, where they tug the straps of her bra down. "I've never told you that before, have I?"

"No." It's a breathless reply, "I'd say the same about you, but you're wearing too much clothing," Alex smirks, pulling away again. Her hands find their way back to Nikita's waist, and begin unbuckling the dark belt holding her jeans in place. Alex tugs them down, Nikita too distracted to do it by herself as she drops kisses along the younger woman's collarbone. "Stand up," Alex orders, and for once, Nikita does as she's told. She kicks her jeans off to the side and begins to crouch again when Alex stops her.

"Shirt too." She sighs tugging the fitted red shirt over her head and throwing it carelessly over her shoulder. It lands on a plate of brownies.

"Wow. Butch until the very end, huh?" Nikita cocks an eyebrow in confusion. Alex points to her underwear; a navy sports bra and tiny white boy shorts that aren't nearly as cute or appealing as her own.

"Shut up, okay?" she teases, back on her knees. "Not everyone drops $400 on useless lingerie." She pecks Alex on the lips, easing her backwards.

"Useless?" Her back collides with the soft carpet and moments later Nikita is hovering above her.

"You've only been in it for twenty minutes." She runs her hands down Alex's front, making her shiver.

"I know, and you're already tearing it off me." Alex smiles, pulling her down for a kiss. She sits back up-crashing into Nikita in the process-and reaches behind her back to untie the ribbon.

Nikita straddles her, stretching up and over to see behind the Russian's back. "Technically, your tearing it off of yourself." She puts her hands over Alex's, helping her get the job done faster. The ribbon undone, the bralett falls into their laps, and for a moment all Nikita can do is stare at the creamy, white skin of her breasts. They're exactly what you'd expect on a nineteen year old; tight, perky, rounded and very, very soft looking. The flow of the pale skin is only disrupted by the shocking pink of her hardened nipples, and for a moment an image of a tongue flashes in Nikita's mind.

"Staring isn't going to make me comfortable, Nikki." she moves to fold her arms over her chest, but Nikita stops her.

"No, don't. They're perfect." She pushes Alex back down-forcefully-and licks her lips as she watches her breasts bob with each movement. Alex sighs.

"So I take it that's your favorite part on a woman?"

"Something like that." She leans down and presses her lips to Alex's, leaving them just as quickly as she came. She takes her time kissing her way down her neck, across her collarbone and down the valley of her breasts, savoring the feel and warmth of Alex's body. She only stops when she gets to her belly button, pressing the side of her face onto the smooth flesh.

"Alex..." Alex ignores her though. Of course she does. She must know what's coming.

"You say they're your favorite part of a woman but you skip right over them?" she lifts Nikita's hand and brings it back to her body, dragging her fingers, starting at her collarbone and going south. Nikita pulls away before she gets to her chest, propping her head on Alex's stomach.

"Lexi..."

"What?" she snaps, propping herself up on her elbows. "What? What is it now?"

Nikita has to look away; she can see the obvious disappointment in her pretty blue eyes. "We...I..." She shakes her head, sitting back up. "I was serious when I said I couldn't do this."

The disappointment is all over her face now, in her body language, in her tone of voice. "Why not? You said you wanted this. We _both _want this."

"I already told you why."

"And I already told you I don't care. I don't hate you anymore, okay? I don't blame you. For anything." Nikita stands and walks a few feet to where her jeans are lying. She puts one foot in, and then the other, completely avoiding Alex's gaze.

"Nikita." It's not really her name she's saying, more of a plead, begging her not to do this. Nikita ignores her, stepping around her to reach for her T-shirt.

This time it's Alex who's close to crying. She presses her palms to her eyes, a futile attempt to stop the tears. "I was serious when I said I loved you, Nikita. And I still do." Her voice shakes and the tears finally fall.

"You've never felt guilt, have you?" Nikita asks, not moving to comfort her. "You've never ruined somebody's life, or lied to someone you love or did terrible, terrible things to someone you're supposed to care about, have you?" Alex doesn't answer, and she doesn't have to. "Yeah. I thought so." Nikita bends down to pick up the silk robe from earlier.

She crouches down next to Alex and drapes it over her still topless form. "It's not about you forgiving me. It's about me forgiving _myself_."

Alex slaps her hands away, holding the robe in place nonetheless. "I really fucking hate Saint Nikita."

Nikita makes a facial expression that's close to a smile, but not at all, not really. "Sometimes I do too. I'm going to bed," she presses a kiss to Alex's forehead, lips lingering on the warm skin. "You should too."

Another tear slips down her cheek, but she ignores it, looking around at the spread of pastries and wine in front of them.

"Don't worry. We can clean up the mess tomorrow."

And only Alex knows that she isn't talking about the food.

* * *

Updating took so much longer than it should have. (Sorry!) But thanks to everyone who followed and favorited the story:3 I swear the next chapter will be all (or mostly) smut.

Reviews are love:3


	3. Chapter 3

Patience has never been a virtue of Alex. Hell, being virtuous has never been a virtue of Alex. But nonetheless, for the last six months, she had been both.

She stands in front of the mirror in her bedroom, tugging on the hem of fitted green T-shirt. The dark skinny jeans she's wearing are practically painted on and the black pumps make her legs look so much longer than they actually are

It's not her usual style (except for the shoes) but it was perfect for what would happen next.

Considering she paid for this safe house, it's no surprise that her room is the largest. She runs through the steps mentally, as she goes over the room, making sure everything is in place. Windows closed and locked, curtains pulled shut, bed neatly made and her…er…supplies, stashed in the closet.

"Okay Lex, you can do this. It's simple."

She walks back around her massive queen-sized bed to the left side of the room, where her full length mirror was. She grabs it and drags it over to her bed. She doesn't waste anytime taking her shoes off, just climbs on top, stands up, and holds the mirror out in front of her. "Sorry about this, Katarina."

Naming her mirror wasn't the weirdest thing she had done.

She drops it, or, more accurately, hurls it to the floor. It shatters-glass, frame, stand-all of it destroyed. The sound it makes breaking is both disturbing and eerily beautiful. She hops down off the bed, pumps making a soft thud as they collide with the white carpet, and cries out. She hobbles over the broken glass and rushes to the door in false panic.

"Shit shit shit shit shit!" she exclaims. She swings the door open and calls out, "Birkhoff! Nikita! I need you guys!" she tosses in a note of panic for emphasis.

They call back to her, but she doesn't hear what they're saying because she's already back in the room. Seconds later, she hears them running up the steps. She hurries and crouches down next to the glass.

'Alex! Are you okay? What happened?" It's Nikita who speaks first, rushing to her side. Alex exhales heavily, looking down at her hand. There's broken glass in her palm, and an unhealthy amount of blood encircling it. She winces-an actual, real wince. She hadn't meant to make _that _much blood appear.

"I was just trying to rearrange my room. I figured it would be easier to just drag it over the bed instead of dragging it across the carpet." she winces again. Not at pain, but at the drops of blood that were staining the carpet. "It hit the bedpost and then it just fucking flipped over…and…" she trails off, pointing to her hand. I tried to catch it but…"

Nikita gives a small, relieved laugh. "I thought you were being murdered, Lex. Here, give me your hand." She brushes the glass off her hand, and holds it up, inspecting it. "All right. Well, it's not deep, but it's not shallow eit-"

Before she can finish talking, Alex reaches out and squeezes the pressure points in both her neck and inner elbow. The amount of force she used, she knows Nikita will be out for ten minutes, at the very least.

The older woman starts to fall forward, into the pile of glass but both Alex and Birkhoff reach out and catch her. They ease her down backwards, making sure not to hurt her.

"Alright, that's done." Birkhoff says, straightening back up. "The panic was a nice touch, by the way."

Alex flashes him a smile over her shoulder. "Yeah, I thought so." A moment passes and they both look down at Nikita. "You should probably go now, B. She'll be waking up in a few minutes."

"I'll be downstairs then." Birkhoff turns and heads towards the door, stopping before he steps over the threshold. "If she screams 'help' or 'rape' at all, I'll be up here and kicking your ass in seconds, Lex."

Alex rolls her eyes, actually a bit touched by his concern. "It's not rape Birkhoff. It may not even be sex. I just want to put on a little show for her. That's all." Alex turns back around and begins scooping up the glass.

"If Michael were here he'd call you a rapist."

"Michael's _not_ here and I'm just trying to help her get over that whole 'guilt' thing. As soon as she says no it's over."

Birkhoff nods and leaves the room. "Have fun with your lesbian experience!"

"Hopefully!"

Then she gets to work on putting everything into place.

x

When Nikita wakes up, she's handcuffed to a chair. Because there are no arms to the chair, both of her arms are pulled behind her and cuffed to the legs of the chair.

There's a flash of panic; a short moment when fear and adrenaline course through her and all thoughts are jumbled and absurd.

Then her vision comes into focus, and the room around her begins to look familiar. She sighs.

"Where are you, Alex?"

Her voice comes from somewhere behind Nikita, in the right corner of the room. When she walks past, she can see Alex is holding a handful of broken glass. "Hey. I was starting to get worried about you. You were only supposed to be out for a few minutes." She walks past the bed and into her private bathroom. When she comes back out, she's empty handed.

"How long was I out?"

She shrugs. "A half hour, give or take."

"And _why_ exactly did I pass out in the first place?" She tilts her head backwards, examining the metal cuffs that are binding her to the chair. She lets out a small growl.

"It was more convenient. For me, at least." Alex crouches out of site again, and when she stands back up, she tosses a shard of glass onto her dresser. "Okay. I think that was the last one."

"Hurray," Nikita deadpans. "Now give me the key to the cuffs."

"Don't you at least want to know why you're tied down in the first place?"

"I'm guessing it's another one of your seductions."

."I stopped using that word after the last attempt."

"So what are you calling it now?"

"Quality time. Girls' night in. Anything so long as it's not the 'S' word." Alex steps in front the chair, putting one leg on either side of Nikita.

"This is bordering on attempted rape." she says when Alex sits on her lap. Alex isn't sure, but she swears Nikita sounded a little breathless when she spoke.

"You can leave anytime you want."

"I want to leave now."

"No." Alex takes her face in both her hands and kisses her. It's a slow and gentle kiss. Not chaste, but not sloppy either and it makes Alex hum with excitement.

"We talked about this, Lexi." Nikita says when they part. Alex was right; she was-still is-breathless. "Remember? Your birthday dinner?" She's talking about the dinner they had almost four months ago, when Nikita finally agreed to give this a shot. "We agreed we would ease into this, and this," she jerks her shoulder upward, handcuffs rattling, "Is not what I had in mind."

Alex sits back up and pulls her hair away from her face. "No. You talked. You made the decisions. I sat there feeling like shit."

Nikita stays silent, relaxing her body. "I want this. I do. Just as much as you do," she says, hazel eyes roaming Alex's body. "But you know why I can't. Not just yet, anyway."

"Can't what?" she questions, feigning ignorance. "I'm not asking you to do anything. I just want you to watch." she flashes her a devious smile, then climbs off of Nikita.

"Watch what?"

Alex ignores her, and crosses the room. She flips the lock on the doorknob, and turns back around, grinning.

"Watch…what, Alex?"

For the first time in a while, Nikita is scared.

"You know, there's actually one more thing I need to do before we start."

"Before we start what, Alex?"

"I feel kind of bad about knocking you out though, I mean, waking up, handcuffed to a chair? Terrible experience." She walks over to the nightstand. "Don't worry, I just Helen Keller you this time."

"Helen wha-" When Alex is standing in front of her again, she's holding a blindfold and an iPod.

"Are you serious? Like are legitimately in your mind tonight?"

Alex giggles, slipping the smooth fabric over the older woman's eyes. She secures it in a knot-that's more difficult than it should have been due to Nikita's natural rebellious nature-and uncoils the headphones from around the electronic.

"You like Ellie Goulding, right?"

"Who?"

"Never mind." She slips the headphones in her ears-again, much harder than it should have been-and Nikita's world goes completely dark.

x

When the blindfold and headphones are taken away, there's a stripper pole in the center of the room. Nikita's chair is only a few inches to the right of the bed, adjusted at the perfect angle so there's nothing obscuring her view.

"God hates me."

"You know, most guys-and girls-would kill for an opportunity like this." Alex drops the iPod and blindfold back into the nightstand drawer.

"I think it's safe to say I'm not most people."

"Can't you just live in the moment, for _once_ in your life?" Alex shoots her a pout over her shoulder, and walks to the pole. The lamps in the room have been switched off, the only sources of light coming from the dozens of candles that are spread out along the floor, dresser, desk and nightstands. The flickering flames paint pale shadows on the walls and furniture and to her right; the open window gives way to a billowing, satin curtain. Lyrics of a song Nikita doesn't recognize fills the room.

"Do you like this song?" Alex asks her. "It's a band called The XX. The song is called 'Heart Skipped a Beat." Alex puts her right hand on the pole, keeping her gaze on the base of it. She takes steps around it, eyes focused on something Nikita can't see.

"You're not wearing pants." And she's not. She's still wearing the tight green shirt, and her pumps, but her pants are nowhere to be found. In their place is a tiny pair of lacy underwear.

"How perceptive of you," Alex smirks, humming along to the song. "Do you have a favorite move?" She puts her other hand on the pole, hips swaying in time to the song.

"I've never actually seen anyone 'work the pole.'" Nikita says, wondering why she isn't looking away. That makes Alex stop. Literally. She doesn't say anything, just cocks an eyebrow and continues on.

She goes around the pole again, and stops when her back is to both Nikita and the pole. She drops to the ground quickly, then pulls herself up with one hand. She spins around keeping only her right hand on the pole, and rolls her hips forward several times.

"So…" Nikita starts. "The XX."

"The XX." Alex echoes. The song changes and a new one comes on. The opening beat has a techno sound to it, before the keyboard and drums kick in. "This is another one of their songs. Teardrops."

A female begins to sing, her voice low and hypnotic. Alex repeats the move she did seconds earlier, but this time, instead of pulling herself back up right away, she takes her time, rolling her body forward. "And the music, don't feel like it did," she sings along, going around the pole again. "With you." She shoots Nikita a pointed look.

"So…The XX." Nikita repeats.

"Yes. The XX." Alex enunciates, smirking at her.

"What?"

"Your voice." She grabs the pole a few inches above her head. "It's the one you use when you're trying to distract yourself." She hoists herself up, flipping her body in the process. She's bent at the waist now, her legs forming a V.

"Right." Nikita says. It's a hollow response and Alex knows she's not paying attention to the conversation anymore.

Alex crosses her ankles and tightens her grip on the bar. "This next move is one of my favorites. "It's called that _"

She slides down the pole, keeping her ankles locked while twirling her body. The room spins around her, shapes morphing with one another and colors bleeding together. The song comes to an end and the room is silent for a few moments. Halfway down the pole she stops, uncrosses her ankles, and puts her feet back on the ground, left one first, then right.

"That's…impressive."

"Thank you. I've been doing this since I was thirteen." Out the corner of her eye, she can see Nikita cringe. "Pole dancing was always my favorite part, Nik. It was the only thing I didn't hate."

"Why was that?"

"The power that came with it." she says it in a tone of voice that implies it should be obvious. "When you're on the pole, you become the center of attention. Every pair of eyes, ever mind absorbing your every move. The music, the lighting, the temperature-it's has to be just right. It doesn't seem like it, but it's all important. It's an art. The art of seduction." She hooks one leg around the pole, spinning slowly. "And when you master it, you become every man's desire. You become their fantasy, the only thing they want in the world."

Nikita hates herself for being unable to turn her eyes away. Her gaze remains fixed on the other woman's body, long and lithe, curling and twisting around the pole, never once out of sync with the music. She's saying something, asking her a question, but Nikita doesn't hear her, only sees her.

"_Nikita._" The only reason she hears that is because Alex stops moving.

"Yes." Her own hazel eyes drift upwards, and find lustrous blue ones.

"I asked if you wanted me to shut the window. You were shivering." If the smirk on her face was any indication, than Alex knew the temperature had nothing to do with her reaction.

"I'm fine."

"Right." Alex steps away from the pole and towards the dresser, where her iPod dock is. She skips over every song until she finds the one she's looking for. Nikita recognizes the opening notes of the song.

"Skin, by Rihanna. I love this song."

"I know." Alex crosses the room, coming to a stop in front of Nikita. "Do you still want to leave?"

Nikita gazes up at her. The tiny T-shirt she wore had rode up, revealing a belly button Nikita didn't know was pierced and a tattoo that wasn't there the last time Nikita had seen her topless. "No."

Alex smiles. "I thought so." She straddles Nikita once again, her face mere inches from hers. "Do you like them?"

"Like what?"

"The piercing. The tattoo. It's a phoenix."

"I have a phoenix tattoo."

"I know," is her response. She begins grinding her hips against Nikita, soft, gentle movements that arouses a fire deep inside her. "We got them for the same reason."

Minutes ago, there was a chill in the air. An indescribable cold that only Nikita felt, that left goose bumps on her arms and no air in her lungs. Now she was flushed, and warm and still fighting to keep her breath. Alex inches closer to her, every inch of their upper bodies touching, hips still grinding against hers.

"Right, Nik?" Alex questions.

Dammit. She was talking again. "What?"

Alex giggles, rolling her eyes. "Never mind. I'll tell you later."

"Okay."

Alex smirks, pressing her body into Nikita's completely, not grinding, not dancing, just _there. _When she exhales, it tickles Nikita's lips and the older woman has to stifle a moan. The moment is over all too quickly; Alex stands and turns, her back to Nikita now as she sits on her lap again.

"If I didn't know any better, I 'd say this was working." Alex says, her voice too sweet to be sincere. The song ends and 'You Da One,' also by Rihanna, starts. The blurry notes blaring from the speakers are upbeat, unlike every other song Alex has danced to tonight. The style of her dancing changes too, the moves jerkier and faster, hips moving with the rhythm, chest rolling forward every so often.

"It's warm in here," Nikita murmurs, in a trance-like state.

"I think I am right."

"What?"

"Nothing, Nikita," Alex laughs. She grabs the hem of her shirt and tugs it over her head, long, brown locks falling wildly around her bare shoulders.

Nikita swallows heavily. She opens her mouth to speak but she has nothing to say. Instead, she tries to focus on the music playing, rather than the growing wetness in her underwear.

The song on the iPod changes once again, the opening notes have a ringing, metallic sound to them. The voice that sings first-female-is one that she recognizes now.

"The XX."

"Yep. This one is called 'Night Time.'" Alex hums along, moving to the beat.

"You really like this band."

"They make good stripping music." Alex moves back until there's no space left between them. She grinds her butt into Nikita's crotch one, two, three times, finally eliciting a moan from her.

"Finally!" She exclaims, rolling her hips forward. "I was starting to think I was the only one getting wet."

"You're w…" Nikita trails off, for some reason unable to say the word "wet" in relation to Alex.

"Mmm-hmm," Alex nods, pulling her bra strap off her shoulder. "I'm soaked, Nikki," she sighs. She pulls the other one down too and turns her head, briefly glancing at Nikita who leans forward and presses a kiss to the bare skin of her shoulders.

"This is torture," Nikita whispers, moving the kisses upward, to her neck. She comes to a stop when she reaches her earlobe, taking it between her teeth.

"Only because this is as far as you'll let it go," she sighs again, this time a little breathier. Alex adjusts her body so that she's sitting on only one of Nikita's legs. She starts grinding again, this time the motions quicker than before. It's not until Nikita hears another sigh that she realizes what she's doing.

"Oh God. Alex are you-?" Her question is cut off by the brunette's panting; the short, breathless gasps that make the answer obvious.

Alex presses her hand firmly to Nikita's knee, using it as leverage. Shifting her body forward, she quickens the motion pressing herself into Nikita's leg. Nikita lets out a moan, the feeling of Alex's heat and wetness on her bare leg overwhelming her. The moans come louder and quicker, and soon Alex is moving at an indescribable speed.

She gives one final, loud moan as her entire body shudders, hips making erratic movements to prolong the orgasm as Nikita fidgets beneath her. It's no use though; all good things must come to an end and this is no exception. She keeps rubbing herself against Nikita though, knowing full well that she's enjoying the sensation.

When Alex straightens up again, she's breathless and doesn't try to hide it. She leans back against Nikita, exhaling heavily. "Shit. My underwear are ruined now."

Nikita lets out an annoyed sigh. "Mine too." There's a mess in her underwear now, but unlike Alex she hasn't gotten off yet. She's close to it, but not quite there. She presses a kiss to the back of her neck and suppresses a moan.

Alex giggles, and leans forward. "Don't worry. I'll take care of you." She separates her body from Nikita and stands facing her. She runs a finger up her stomach and hooks a finger on the part of the bra that connects the two cups. It's a front clasp bra and when she unclasps it, her breasts fall free, swinging slightly.

"Not done teasing me, huh?" Nikita watches as she pinches her own nipples, tugging them and her breasts upward for a second.

Alex shakes her head and grins. She hooks her thumbs in the waistband of her tiny underwear, pulling them down with unhurried ease. From here, Nikita can see that she wasn't lying when she said she was soaked. She swallows heavily and drags her gaze upward, to Alex's face.

The look Nikita gives is one that can only be described as hungry and that burning fierceness in her eyes only turns Alex on more.

She straddles Nikita once again, this time completely naked. "You made me wait," Alex says, kissing her roughly, both of them still breathless. "For two years, I thought about you every day." Another kiss. "And you know what I had to do, every night, lying in bed?" Alex pants into the other woman's mouth. Nikita moans, pulling her closer.

"That's right," she whispers, in her ear. "Every. Single. Night." Alex continues kissing her, lips moving south. She had absolutely no intention of freeing Nikita anytime soon. Her soft lips flutter over Nikita's lips, throat, collarbone, chest, and after pushing her shirt up, her stomach.

"Where's the key to these things?" She asks, rattling the handcuffs.

"Somewhere only I know." Alex smirks, flipping her hair over her shoulder. She drags the tip of her tongue down Nikita's stomach, only stopping to dip her tongue in her belly button, earning another animalistic moan from her.

Nikita shudders beneath her as Alex works on the zipper of her shorts. When she pulls them down, it's with haste. She tosses them carelessly behind her, nearly hitting a candle.

"Lexi," Nikita groans. Long fingers hook into the waistband of her boy shorts and seconds later the tight-and wet-fabric is being pulled from her skin. Unlike the shorts, Alex takes her time removing these, easing them off the other woman gently. Nikita lets out a soft sigh as the cool air hits her, electrifying ever nerve in her body. The underwear drop around her ankles and she kicks them off, looking down when Alex presses a kiss to her knee.

"I've been waiting too long to do this," she says, looking up into her eyes.

"Then what are you waiting for?" It comes out a little harsher than she meant, but there was a throbbing inside of her that overpowered everything else.

"What ever happened to Nikita the Saint?" Alex teases. It wasn't a nice thing to do…but Alex didn't care. She sits back, smiling.

"Wha…?"

"Nikita the Saint. You know, the one who was against this from the very beginning." Alex drags a hand up and down Nikita's thigh, and each time the action is repeated, her inches closer to, but doesn't touch _that _part of her body.

"She…she…" Nikita trails off, closing her eyes.

"She what?"

"She won't be a problem." Alex rubs her thumb over her slit, teasing the slick, wet folds. She can feel the other woman's body tense beneath her as she whimpers.

"Not now or not ever?" She pulls her thumb away and holds it in front of her lips. Alex watches her reaction with a mixture of cruelty and amusement as she sticks the digit in her mouth, running her tongue over every inch of skin that's covered with the taste of Nikita.

Nikita throws her head back, knocking it against the back of the chair. "Jesus Christ," she pants, her chest heaving up and down and her toes curls tightly curled.

"I asked you a question, Nikita."

"She won't…she won't be a problem…not now, not ever."

"Look at me." Alex leans forward, propping her chin on the edge of the seat. She can smell Nikita from here. "Are you sure?" Nikita nods.

"That's good," Alex smiles. She scoots closer to the chair, and puckers her lips. She blows a burst of cool air on her, shifting her neck every now and then to make sure the cool air reached every inch of her slit.

"Fuck," Nikita breathes, biting her lip.

"You smell good, Nik."

"I probably taste even better."

"No need to rush things." Alex mocks. "You told me waiting is good."

"Oh my God, Alex," she moans, becoming flushed. Alex bites the skin of her inner thigh, running her tongue over the sensitive flesh.

"Love bite," she sing-songs, pulling her legs farther apart. "You want another one?" Nikita nods, body going limp. Alex gives her three more, the last one so close to her womanhood Alex swears she can see the wetness actually coming out.

"Please," Nikita begs.

"Please what?" Alex asks, using a saccharine voice. She nuzzles her with the tip of her nose, Nikita's warmth and scent dominating her world.

"Oh my God, Alex."

"You already said that," Alex smirks, finally taking pity on Nikita, Nikita whose eyes were clenched shut and stomach muscles pulled taut. Alex puts an end to her begging and licks her, a soft flick of the tongue that gave them both what they wanted. Nikita shudders at the contact, teeth digging into her bottom lip.

She was right; she _did_ taste good. Alex licks her again, this time using her entire tongue and not just the tip. She lays kiss after kiss on her lower lips, loving the damp and sensuous feeling they leave behind. The Russian's lips moved up and down, covering every inch, claiming every inch. Nikita's hips begin to rock back and forth, and Alex knows she wants more. Alex is happy to take more. She sits back up, peering up at the other woman.

"How does that feel?" Alex murmurs, slipping her thumb over her clit.

Nikita moans in response.

"I'll take that as a 'don't stop' then." Alex puts more pressure on it, rubbing tight, harsh circles while using her index finger to tease her entrance. Nikita tosses her head to the side, gasping at the sensation.

Tonight, seduction isn't the only art form, teasing is one too.

Alex circles her entrance with the tip of her finger. "I wonder how long it'll take to make you cum," she wonders aloud.

Nikita growls, not at all amused that she sees this as a _game_. For God's sake, it felt like the apocalypse was taking place in her crotch. "Not long if you stop with these fucking games."

Alex smirks, easing a finger in her, first one inch, then another until she's knuckle deep inside of her. "You can handle more than one finger, right?" she pulls her finger out, shoving it right back in and then again. Nikita shudders, rolling her hips forward in agony.

"God, yes!" she exclaims, panting. Alex pulls her finger out again, replacing it with two. Nikita whimpers, tossing her head to the other side. "Stop teasing me," she pleads, thrusting her hips forward. Alex rotates her fingers, curling them in the process and Nikita swears her eyes are tearing up.

"Another one?"

"Jesus just fuck me already," Nikita all but screams.

And she does scream when Alex wraps her lips around her clit, sucking and teasing with her teeth. Her fingers are pumping in and out of her and every few seconds they hit _that_ spot and all Nikita can do is moan because _her fucking hands are still handcuffed behind her_.

She lets out a strangled whimper, gasping for breath between highs. "Faster!"

Alex pulls her mouth away from her, licking her lips. Her fingers are still moving in and out of her, gaining speed with every second. She takes her other hand and uses her thumb and index finger to spread her lips. "You need to learn patience, Nikki," Her tongue finds her clit again, flicking over the sensitive nub again and again. Alex curls her fingers again, making Nikita thrash violently above her.

Complete sentences are no longer an option for Nikita, any thought roaming through her mind obliterated by waves of ecstasy radiating throughout her body.

"Shit," she moans, biting her lip so hard she tastes blood. Every pump of the hand meets a thrust of the hips, every sigh dominated by a moan.

"You're almost done, aren't you?" Alex asks, pulling away from her again. Nikita groans, nodding her head. She feels herself tightening around the Russian's fingers, tiny white shapes beginning to dance behind her eyelids. She pants out; completely lost in the whirlwind of the coming orgasm.

"You really want to cum, don't you?" Alex sits back on her ankles, hand still moving inside Nikita, but not as fast as before. Nikita grunts at the interruption.

"What do you want Nikita?"

"Hmm-mmm," is her only response as she thrust her hips forward, trying to make up for the reduction in speed.

Alex slows her pace again. "What do you want, Nikita?"

"Wha…? Don't…stop," she pants.

Alex 'tsk-tsks,' slowing her hand to a devastating speed: in, two second pause, out, two second pause, in, pause, out, pause. Nikita cries out. She can feel herself falling off the edge, even though she hasn't _actually_ reached it yet.

"Then answer my question. What do you want?"

"You." She knows it's the right answer, because for the last two years, that's what all this has been about, Alex trying to make Nikita want her. Making her need her.

"When do you want me?" A reward for the right answer, Alex pumps a little faster.

"Now." Nikita shudders at the small wave of pleasure.

Alex leans forward and presses a kiss to her lower lips, licking her clit as she pulls away. "Now and?"

"Now and _what_?" The warmth spreads throughout her body again, as Alex hand nears her original pace. She knows she's flushed and just like before, it's hard to form sentences.

"Now and for what?" Alex's hand glides over her spot, not curling or scratching, but only gliding and Nikita knows she won't get those luxuries until she gives Alex what she wants.

"For fucking eternity!" Nikita screams, body thrashing. She rolls her hips forward, thrusting with every fiber of her being. She is _this_ close to something she's wanted for so long.

"Good girl," Alex coos.

Nikita tosses her head backwards, entire body trembling as Alex finishes the job; fingers in knuckles deep, going 1,000 miles an hour, teeth and tongue ravishing her clit. Her heart pounds; lashing out in her chest as she rolls her hips up and down, slamming against the wooden chair. _God_. How long had it been since someone had gotten her off like _this_?

"Mmm," Alex murmurs, kissing her stomach. "I think this is where we left off."

Nikita cries out as she feels it; the building orgasm, the tightened muscles, the temporary loss of all senses. Her hips are rocking violently and her world is darkening and then she's coming; fast and hard and so very _loud. _

She keeps moving though, trying to prolong the dying orgasm but of course, nothing lasts forever. Her body shudders for the last few seconds of it, jerky movements that tell her that it's all over, all too quickly.

Her body goes limp as Alex pulls away. When she opens her eyes again, the room is spinning and Alex is standing before her. Licking her fingers clean.

"How was that?" she smirks, yet again straddling her.

Nikita leans forward and captures her lips in a soft, passionate kiss. In absentia of words, a kiss will suffice.

"I'll take that as 'mind blowing,'" Alex says, breaking the kiss. She pecks her once more then stands up. Nikita watches as she crosses the room completely naked, not bothering to cover up or anything.

"How did you know that would work?" Nikita asks, after she's caught her breath a minute or so later. "The seduction. It didn't work the first time. It was a failure the second. Why go for it a third time?" Alex crouches down and opens the bottom drawer of her dresser, rummaging around for something. When she finds it, she straightens up and kicks the drawer close.

"Because I learned something from the other two times," as she steps closer, Nikita can see something silver glint in her hand. A key. "When you're seducing someone, you don't just tease them, or give them what they want right away. No. You take what you want from them, and then you make them want the same thing. You make them _need _the same thing."

Nikita hears the tumblers of a lock and then another, and then the handcuffs fall to the floor. She groans at the stiffness in her arms as she pulls them forward.

"Are you sure about that? There was an unhealthy amount of teasing tonight," she says, rubbing the circulation back into her wrists. There are red lines cut all across the sensitive skin and the beginning of bruises along her upper arms where they'd been pressed into the chair.

"You deserved that."

Nikita stands, blushing the moment she remembers she's completely bottomless.

Alex smirks at her, nodding to her crotch. "What's wrong, Nik? A minute ago you were trying to suffocate me with that." She steps around her and walks back to the dresser. Nikita stays where she is, covering herself.

When the other woman steps in front of her again, she has on a red, oversized 'The Kills' concert tee and nothing else. She holds out a pair of pajama pants with tiny dancing pandas on them.

Nikita smiles; Alex will always be a kid on the inside.

"So," Alex starts. Nikita steps into the pajamas, and then looks up. "Nikita the Saint..." she trails off, biting her lips. Her eyes are cast downward and for the first time in a while, Nikita gets a peek of her shyness.

"What about her?"

"You said she wouldn't be a problem."

Nikita slips her arms around her waist, pulling her closer. "I did." She presses a kiss to the hollow of her neck, letting her lips linger on the soft, scented skin.

"Did you mean just tonight or…" she trails off again, breaking eye contact. Nikita laughs, and pulls her in for another kiss, biting on her bottom lip as she pulls away.

"No." she says, shaking her head. She presses her forehead against Alex's and looks her square in her baby blue eyes.

"I mean for fucking eternity."

* * *

That is all:) Hope you guys all enjoyed the long awaited smut scene.

Reviews are love:3


End file.
